


The Workings of Alphas & Omegas

by MsCashew



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alpha Arthur, Alpha Douglas, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arthur is VERY Helpful, Bonding, But It's All Brilliant, Discussion of Abortion, Fear of Being Sexually Assaulted, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Abortion, More tags at a later date!, Mpreg, Omega Martin, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Protective Douglas, Rimming, Sex, Things are a good bit more consensual in this AU, Titch Possessive Douglas, Unrequited Love, past trauma, slight bdsm undertones, slight dom/sub undertones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 23:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16628411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCashew/pseuds/MsCashew
Summary: Shortly after Martin and Arthur arrive at their hotel for an MJN solo trip; Martin begins to feel ill. Was it just from tiredness? Was it something he ate?He just hoped it wasn't the flu.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. . . Here's another fanfic I'm starting... Yay? D: . . .No, but, I am working on my other ones. They should be updated by the end of the year, so. . . Yes. :)
> 
> Anyhoo, I've never written omegaverse, but I was very much inspired by More Than Biology and Chemistry by imanadultiguess (which you should read, as it's enjoyable :) ), so, you may guess where the first/second chapter's going. ;P ❤ But yes. :) I'm going to try and update every couple weeks to a month, as this may be a bit of a long fic? We'll just have to wait and see. ;)   
> (and I may add some art to go along with the fic later, so. . . stay tuned ;P ❤)
> 
> Also, things are a good bit more consensual in this here fic of mine. Alphas are able to control themselves a bit more (of course though, there are a few alphas here and there that are dinks ;P). And . . . Yeah. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy my little fic. Not beta'd, nor Brit-Picked, so please tell me if something's off. ❤

“Carolyn, you can’t be serious? The lights are flickering with how windy it is!”

“Is the room nice?” Carolyn seems to ignore Martin's complaint, the captain huffing out,

“Yes. It's, it's one of the nicer that you've booked.” The full beds looked lush instead of the lumpy things they usually got stuck with. And the view just on the outskirts of Paris was lovely.

“How about the en suite?”

“There's a giant bath in here, Skipper!” As if on cue, Arthur yells out.

“It's rather nice.”

“Doesn't it have a nice homey, old world charm?”

“It's nice! Yes!, But -”

“Then live with it, dear boy. It was one of the last hotels I could find. You're lucky it's not infested.”

Martin heaves a great sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I-I s'pose you're right.”

“As am I ever. Now, Douglas is being a terrible pain to the last shreds of my sanity, he would like to speak with you.”

Shuffling and a yawp of an insult comes from Carolyn, soon the honey voice of Martin's partner coming on the phone.

“Hello, love.”

“Hello, Douglas.” Martin smiles to himself, feeling almost giddy with talking to his mate, not being apart from one another for so long since they bonded.

“Hotel not up to standards?” Douglas asks, mild concern lining his voice.

“Well, it's actually fairly nice. Cozy, warm. Just the electricity seems to be a bit tricky,” He reports, noting rain beginning to pour out of no where as he watches the sky turn dark, “If, if my phone dies, you’ll know why.”

“I miss you already, darling.” Douglas warmly replies, Martin not helping but grinning, feeling his cheeks flush lightly.

“I love you too.” Martin murmurs fondly, finding himself tracing his fingers gently along his bond mark.

Douglas purrs, responding lovingly, “I love you more,” He lowers his voice to a near whisper, sounding mischievous, “Can’t wait until you’re home next week, mon amour,” Martin blushes, biting his lower lip, smiling. His heat would be next week, it only being the second one he’d be sharing with Douglas, their first having been bonded, “The things we’ll do, oh love-,” He suddenly stops, coughs, Martin practically seeing the smirk on his face,

“Carolyn, anything to add?”

“You’re both revolting.” Is what Martin hears, he grinning and blushing at Douglas’ antics.

"Now, darling," Douglas murmurs, sounding his ever protective self, "Did you take your birth control for the week?"

. . . Did he? Douglas had taken to remind him every week since they started seeing one another. Thinking both Douglas was being his caring alpha self and that. . . Douglas didn't want any more children. Which might have stung a little bit. Maybe it did a titch. But he was always just worried about being an omega and wanting to fly, he didn't think much of it, honestly. And he mostly took birth control to regulate everything. Though, it was handy when they didn't want to bother with protection, both being clean, Martin. . . Rather enjoyed feeling everything during his heat with Douglas -

"Martin, hello? Still there?"

"Yes! What?. . . Yes!" Douglas only chuckles warmly, Martin flushing at wandering into his own perverted thoughts.

"Did you take your med, love?" He asks again, Martin hearing the smile, the love, in his tone.

"I did, yes." He was pretty sure he did.

“Very good. So," Douglas starts, seeming to want to change the subject, "Has Arthur still been . . . ‘helpful’?” Clingy, is what Martin wanted to correct. But helpful was a close second.

“He has, yes.” He simply answers.

“Tell him to knock it off.” Martin just snorts, Douglas grousing at Martin’s response.

“Douglas, you know he’s harmless. He’s the biggest alpha softy I’ve ever met, well, apart from my mate.” He adds, hearing a satisfied hum from his alpha. Douglas really was never aggressive towards Arthur, far from it. But with Martin and Arthur having this solo trip, well. . . He had been a little possessive over the last week before they left.

“I know, love, I know,” Douglas admits, sighing at said admission, “I just haven't much cared for his ' _helpfulness_ ' as of late, dear.”

“You know he would never hurt a fly, let alone me, or, or. . . You know. _Try_ anything.” Douglas sighs heavily, Martin hearing him lean back in the one squeaky office chair, which Martin most always got stuck with.

“I know, love, I know,” He repeats, sighing once more, “Just. . . Something has been on the edge of my senses for the last week or so. . .” His thought wanders off, Martin smiling at his mate.

“Douglas. Arthur's our friend. I'll be fine.” He sweetly says, Douglas sighing once more, though Martin being able to finally hear a smile in his mate's voice.

“You're right, love. You're right. Even if very rarely, you're right.”

“Hey!” Douglas only chuckles, they going on to discuss this and that for a little while longer, finally saying goodbye when Martin goes to put things away for the few days they would be there.

 

**~ * * * ~**

 

The morning goes on, shifting swiftly to the afternoon, Martin feeling a slight niggling in the pit of his stomach as the time went on, as captain and steward just chat the time away, thinking of what they may do when the weather begins to let up.

However, the weather wasn't letting up at all, Arthur discussing that maybe he should venture out and grab them supper at the very least. Martin didn't think that was such a bad idea.

Though when Arthur was in the en suite, preparing to go out in the storm; Martin begins to not. . . feel very well, that feeling in his stomach aching a bit oddly. So much, in fact, he strips down to his boxers and vest, climbing into the bed he had claimed for the next few days.

Arthur bounds out of the en suite, his usual smile wiped away when he notices Martin.

“Skipper?” He questions, moving over to the bed swiftly.

“I-I feel a bit sick. . .” Martin groans in answer, nuzzling his face into the pillow of his bed.

“I’m sorry, Skipper. Is there anything I can get you? Water, tea? . . . Crackers?””

“Not sure. . . “ Martin groans again, the pillow muffling his reply somewhat.

“Well, I think I’ll stock up on a few things as well, just to be safe. The weather isn’t looking so brilliant. May not be able to get out much.”

“O-Okay. . . “

A long moment passes when Martin feels a hand in his hair, Arthur’s fingers lightly massaging his scalp in a calming, comforting way.

Martin hums at the pleasantness, taking a peek up at Arthur from his hiding spot in his pillow. What he finds is a very concerned looking Arthur, his friend’s hand not stopping in the nice little massage he was doing.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Skipper?”

“I’m . . . I’m more than fine. It just must have been that chicken we had at the airport.”

“But I had more than you!”

“You also have an iron stomach, Arthur.”

“I really don’t.”

“Says the man that ate three helpings of his ‘surprising rice’.”

“I thought it was good.” He smiles, Martin just shaking his head.

“I’ll be fine….”

“I don’t want to leave you!” The concern lining Arthur's face; Martin didn't know how to react to it. He was used to Arthur being helpful, sure, but this. . . He wasn't used to Arthur being genuinely worried. Not to say his friend wasn't worried from time to time, but, this was something else.

“I'll be fine,” Arthur gives him another look, practically bouncing on his heels, Martin convinced the man would jump into his bed to make sure he was okay, “Arthur, I promise. If something comes up, I will absolutely text you with the very last of my battery life. Does that sound fair?”

With a heave of a sigh, Arthur is nodding before giving his response, “Okay. . . But I'm bringing you biscuits!” Martin can't help but laugh at the declaration, giving Arthur's arm a light pat as the steward slowly takes it away.

“Deal,” This makes Arthur finally smile again, sighing out a 'brilliant',

“Safe travels, Arthur.”

With a little wave as he slides out the door; Martin burrows further into his bed, groaning at the ache in his belly, soon falling into a light dreamless sleep.

 

**~ * ~**

 

Martin wakes with a start, feeling. . . Feeling so warm, so uncomfortable. God, it must not have been something at the airport, he thinks, peeling the bedding off his body, making his way to the en suite, stripping as he went.

“I hope it's not the flu.” He mutters, completely nude when he reaches the en suite, thinking a cool shower would help considerably.

He flips the light switch, nothing happening. No light, no fan coming to life. Nothing.

“Weather.” he grumbles, moving over to the bath, the late afternoon light filtering through the window giving him enough to see.

The taps take little effort to turn in the claw foot tub, Martin adjusting the water to just below cool.

The water doesn’t help very much, but it is sort of relaxing with the water beating down his hot skin, soon enough, beginning to wash himself with the lavender soap Douglas had gifted him.

“ _It’ll relax you"_ , Douglas had murmured as he kissed Martin’s temple. It was more than thoughtful, the stress of his man with a van job had just been terrible lately, clients being overly pushy, and mean. Martin was a little in over his head.

But he had ran it on his own for so long, he knew it’ll be fine again sooner than later, autumn always seeming to make movers a titch more grumpy than normal. . . Thinking about it over the past couple months, he was really honestly surprised after him and Douglas had bonded that his mate didn’t say boo about him keeping his little side business.

“ _I’m not expecting you to become a servant to my whims, you know. You’re your own man. I’m not going to stop your van, I’m not going to stop you from flying. . . I may help a bit more here and there, but whatever you want to do; I will support you._ ”

Martin feels so warm at the memory from just a couple of months ago, smiling to himself as he works his shampoo in his hair. Bonding with Douglas; his omega side was prepared to give up a couple things to satisfy Douglas and his alpha side, even if he didn’t like it much himself. That’s just how he was raised, why his father didn’t want him to fly. He wanted his son to find a good alpha and settle down. Well, he found the best alpha he possibly could. One that would be kind to him, love him, protect him, yet, let him be him. . . He had to admit though, there may always be the littlest part in his mind that thinks Douglas will change his own, not based on Douglas, his loving partner. But because of the alpha, wanting to be dominant and to control and to protect.

Martin gives the lightest of shivers at the thought.

He turns the taps off, ready to step out when suddenly he doubles over, moaning at the pain suddenly blooming out of no where, at his cock becoming hard, at the wetness he felt begin to trickle down his thighs from his arse.

Oh no. Oh _no_. Oh no, no, no, no, no, _no_ , _**NO**_!

His heat! His heat was here! Why? How?! _Why_?! He wasn’t supposed to go into heat for another week!

Shakily, he sits himself down in the bath, beginning to already palm his hard cock, it not being nearly enough and going straight to stroking.

He moans long and low, his other hand already flicking at an already pebbled nipple. That very hand though quickly slinks down, down, down. Right past his stroking hand, right to his leaking hole, thrusting in two fingers straight away.

“Ah! Oh, yes, yes. . .” He chants softly, wanting more, wanting to go deeper, _needing_ to go **deeper** , wanting to fill this ache! With great effort, he places his feet up on the sides of the bath, adding a third finger, going in as deep as he can, thoughts of Douglas flitting across his mind, thinking of his mate doing this for him, of his feet up on Douglas’ shoulders instead of the cold bath.

Oh, it made him harder at the thought.

Christ, he had to come, he wanted to come. He was so close, so close-

“Yes, yes, ooohh, yes, fuck me,” He pants quickly, thinking of Douglas looming over him, of his mate stroking his thick, long, fat cock as he fingered Martin, ready to push right in after Martin came, Martin thinking of Douglas setting a fast pace, of his knot, - Christ, he wanted his knot!

“Douglas, oh, my alpha, yes, comingcomingcoming-!” Stroking fast, pumping in time with his strokes, tumbling down fast that path of orgasm; he yawps incoherently at finally coming, his spunk shooting hot onto his belly, his entrance desperately trying to grab onto something bigger other than his fingers.

Martin opens his eyes, not exactly remembering when he had closed them.

“Well... That helped.” He pants out loud, moaning softly as he pulls his fingers from his wet hole, placing both hands on his sticky stomach, legs still in the air up on the sides of the bath, feeling his curls so damp and sticking to his forehead.

It may have helped the slightest bit, but he still ached, oh, he still _wanted._

With a grumble, he gently places his feet back down into the tub, sitting up, moaning at the slick running out at the new position; he turns the tap on, rinsing the mess carefully off his stomach with his hand.

Just barely turning the faucet off; he’s leaning up against the back of the bath once more, already gently stroking himself, the immediate need to be filled, to come dampened down the slightest bit.

He’s not sure how much time has passed, getting lost in his light stroking, thinking of his alpha all the while when -

“Skipper?” clearly rings out in the bedroom, Martin gasping at the steward’s voice, skin clamming in an instant.

Christ . . .

How in the world did he forget about Arthur?!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's back from his outing.
> 
> Martin's worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's much, much earlier than I said I would be updating, but. . . Merry Thanksgiving, yay! ;P ❤ But yes, I had a good hunk of this written and thought I'd finish it and share. :) It was much longer, but I thought I'd break it up into two chapters. So. . . Look forward to that. ❤
> 
> So, just a maybe trigger warning. Arthur is . . . VERY helpful, and wants to help Martin. The way he goes about it isn't the best, I will say that that could possibly be triggering to some. But nothing nefarious happens, worry not. ❤❤❤
> 
> But yes! I do so hope you enjoy the chapter. ❤

“Skip?” comes Arthur's call once more, worry seeming to line his voice, making the omega in Martin want to call out to the alpha to reassure him. He does the opposite though, curling in on himself in the tub, laying a hand over his mouth,

“Are you alright? Skippe-. . .” Martin detects a slight waver to Arthur's voice, a deep, _deep_ sniff sounding out, hearing a clunk of things hitting the hardwood floor.

“Oh. Oh, _Skip_. You're. . .” The slow steps moving toward Martin sound thunderous to the captain's ears, tightening further into his ball.

Arthur's steps stop, right outside the en suite door, a gentle jiggling of the knob indicating his friend being right there.

Thank God Martin locked the door out of habit.

“Skip? You, you alright in there?”

It takes Martin a long moment to answer, his mind slightly fogging at the very faint scent of alpha coming through the door.

“I-I'm fine. Just fine. Fine. Just, have, having a, a. . . Bath.”

“Oh. Okay. Um. . . Just, just call me? If, If you need anything.”

“Will do!” He squeaks, hearing Arthur's steps retreat not too far away from the door, hearing the alpha pace for a few long moments before hearing those steps make their way back to the en suite door.

“Are you sure?” He hears him call out, sounding closer to the door, if that was possible, handle jiggling again.

“Y-Yes.” He calls back, heart beating rapidly.

“Alright. . . Yes. Okay,” The steps are pacing all about the room, Arthur checking on Martin a few more times in quick succession until he's once more at the door, right out saying,

“You see, the thing is, Skipper. . . I can smell you. I can smell your heat. Are you, are you in pain? You must be.”

“N-No.” He replies feebly in a stutter, biting his lip in order to try and stifle his groan.

“Skip. . . Can I help?”

“ _What_?!” Did Martin hear him right?!

“Can I help?” He simply asks, door handle seemingly forever jiggling.

“No?!” He groans loudly at the sudden spike of pain, clutching at his stomach.

“Skipper?!” Panic sounds out from Arthur, he now knocking on the door, “Are you okay?”

“I-I'm fine. I'm f-f-fine.” He manages in a stutter, rubbing his head against the hard bath floor as he hugs himself tight.

“You don't sound fine. You sound in pain. Please, let me help?”

“No. No, I-I'm fine. Thank you, Arthur.” he ends on a moan, knowing himself that that wasn't convincing at all.

“I really think I should help. Please? Please let me help, please?” He begs, fingers drumming quickly on the door, almost as if he was readying to pounce.

“You can't!” He calls back loudly, stomach cramping more.

“But I'm a good helper!”

“ _Arthur_!”

“Let me help, Skip! Please? Please, please, _please_?!”

“I-I can’t! You know that, Arthur! I can’t let you-” He ends on a sudden groan, clutching at his abdomen, curling even tighter in on himself.

“But I want to heeelp. I’m good at helping!” Arthur keeps pleading, Martin hearing distinct scratching at the toilet door sliding all the way down, imagining Arthur sliding down with it.

Martin only answers with another mournful, painful moan, the cool tub pressing against his molten skin not doing one damn bit of good.

“You’re in pain. Skip, Skipper-, **Martin**. I want to help, - I _need_ to help. Let me help, please?”

Martin only groans once more, not knowing what to do.

“Alright,” The determined word of Arthur comes through with a grunt, Martin knowing he's stood up from the floor, the alpha trying the door once more, yet more desperate, more thoroughly,

“I'm sorry.” he hears, not knowing who exactly Arthur was apologizing to.

He soon hears a thump, then a loud bang. In his state, he manages to peek over the bath, his eyes widening at the sight of the door bending slightly inward.

“Oh no.” He mouths, another bang against the door, curling in on himself once more, the bangs continuing, Arthur grunting at his using force, Martin's heart banging right along with Arthur's thumps against the door.

He's not sure how much time has passed, but yelps in fear when hearing the door finally give in, banging against the wall, balling into himself further as if trying to disappear as he hears the steady steps of Arthur coming toward the bath.

“Oh, oh Arthur, nooooo. . .” Martin whines when feeling Arthur right above him. Arthur’s arms soon envelope him, easily lifting his nude self from the bath even as Martin weakly struggles. But, but the scent-

Oh, Arthur’s scent was absolutely drowning him, alpha pheromones immediately stopping his struggling when it takes some of his pain away. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, snuffling the whole short walk.

He's lain on the bed, the gesture jolting his mind into thinking, _“No! Not your alpha, not your mate!”_ Martin's heard of so many alpha friends of omegas turn into a beast when their omega friend goes into heat, he never thought in his wildest dreams he'd be one of them, that Arthur of all people would be the one that took and dominated.

He feels a dip beside him on the bed, eyes clenching tighter,

“Arthur, no, please. . .”

Arthur doesn’t try to pin him down, he doesn’t try and force himself into Martin. No. He just lays down, pulling Martin close to him, guiding him towards his neck, Arthur’s scent furthering in taking some of the pain away.

He snuffles into Arthur’s warmth, hands gripping, searching for some kind of grounding, feeling Arthur’s arms wrap around him, words of comfort seeping into the slight fog that had overcome his drowned senses.

Arthur's scent, it smelled. . . It smelled. . . Sweet. So very sweet. With hints of fresh cut grass and something musky that Martin couldn't quite place.

“Arthur?” Martin murmurs, so very confused by what was happening, finally looking up at his friend.

“I’m an alpha, Skipper.” He simply responds, one of his large hands running smoothly up and down Martin’s back, the other running through his hair with such care.

“That. . . That doesn’t exactly explain why you’re not. . . You’re not. . .” Martin can’t bring himself to say why Arthur wasn’t . . . _Fucking_ him like the alpha he was.

“I want to help. My scent should help with the pain, even just a little bit. I know that there's nothing to . . . ' _Aid_ ' you, unless we can get _**really**_ creative,” Arthur murmurs that last bit, “But you. . . Do whatever you must to _help_ yourself along _,_ I s’pose.”

He holds that smile like he did any other day. Now, though, his face was slightly flushed, his chest looking to be a bit as well. . . It was at this point, Martin notices that the steward was in nothing but bright red pants, also noting how very hard his friend was.

Martin moans at the sight, the omega part of his brain screaming at him that that's what he needed. All he does though is bury his face once again against the steward, thrusting up at nothing but air.

“It's alright, Skip. Please, help yourself. I don't mind.”

So that's what Martin does.

He begins a light stroke, right away moaning long and low, nuzzling into Arthur more, head lightly spinning at thinking of his mate, yet breathing in an entirely different scent.

“That's right. Just like that, Skipper.” Arthur murmurs, hand firmly running up and down Martin's side, Martin shivering at the firm pet.

Martin keeps on his stroking, fresh slick running down onto the clean sheets, onto his thighs. His other hand has a mind of it's own, pushing two fingers into his wet hole, thrusting slowly, deeply.

“Oh, oh, God...” Martin moans deeply, sniffling deeply in the crook of Arthur’s neck, his precum making the way so lovely.

“Yes, Skip. You're such a brilliant omega, touching yourself so well.”

Martin beams at the praise, wanting to be a good omega; he doubles his efforts, stroking faster, thrusting harder, his orgasm coming along more quickly this time around.

“Coming, oh, I’m coming, I-” With that, he was coming in his hand once again, splattering not only on his belly, but making it’s way to Arthur’s in the process.

Feeling mortified at seeing his ejaculate on Arthur, _Arthur_ of all people . . . He tries to hide by burrowing his face into Arthur’s chest, the knowledge that he was still hard against Arthur’s hip furthering him in his embarrassment..

“Skip, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” Arthur murmurs, that hand in his hair just massaging his scalp so gently, feeling Arthur nuzzle into his hair.

“I-I didn’t mean to...” Martin trails off, not helping himself in rubbing just a titch on Arthur’s hip, stuttering out a soft apology, yet not being able to stop himself.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. I know how things can go. I mean, I have helped pony club friends through their heats. I know how it can be.”

This bit of news is just. . . **Bewildering** to Martin.

“You’ve. . . _Helped_ other omegas?”

“Of course! I love helping. It’s brilliant. They like having an alpha for their scent, to hold them and kiss them and cuddle them, and just take care of them while they have toys to help with that part of it all,” Martin doesn’t think to ask if Arthur’s ever helped them further along when his friend places a hand on his hip, guiding Martin’s crotch closer to his own hip, the captain quickly grinding more firmly against him,

“So please, Skipper. Don’t apologize. I just want you to feel _brilliant_ and not be in too much pain. Do what you need to do,” He furthers his plea by tightening his arm around Martin, nuzzling into his curls, breathing deep, “Come on. Don't be shy, Skip. One more orgasm should hold you for a while.”

Martin nods against Arthur's chest, thrusting against the steward's hip, getting into a nice little rhythm, his arm wrapping around Arthur's belly for purchase.

“Oh, Skipper. Oh yes, just like that, so good, such a good omega for taking care of yourself so well.”

“Oh, oh yes, yes, yes,” Martin moans, going faster, “Good omega, yes, yes.”

“The _best_ omega.” Arthur spurs him on, flicking a thumb over Martin's hard nub of a nipple, making Martin cry out, coming hard on not just Arthur's stomach this time, but all over those bright red pants, the cock trapped with in it's confines seeming to twitch at the spill.

Martin collapses against Arthur, panting hard, feeling spent for the time being, feeling, feeling absolutely _exhausted_.

“That was brilliant, Skip! You did wonderfully, coming so quickly and nicely.” Arthur murmurs, holding Martin gently, yet firmly. Just. . . With such care.

Martin only thinks to nod, eyelids already drooping, making a home on Arthur's chest for the time being.

“That's right. You just rest, Skipper. Just rest.” He gently says, fingers softly running through Martin's curls, he dozing right off at the gesture, thoughts of Douglas floating through his mind as he does so.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I told you Arthur was helpful. ;D ❤
> 
> But yah. This is. . . This is the most smut I've written in a very long time, and there's going to be a good bit more in the next chapter. O.o Goodness me (honestly, in the next couple, really...Oh my...). . . 
> 
> Anyhoo, I do so hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks so much for reading. ❤❤❤


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin has a few questions about these omegas Arthur's helped.
> 
> Arthur is more than happy to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a Valentines post, hooray! ;P No, but. . . Yeah. Sorry for the wait. So. . . This chapter was getting out of hand. O.o It was going on for longer than the first two chapters combined, so I thought I'd split it up. :) 
> 
> But yes! I do so hope you like this chapter.
> 
> ❤❤❤

Martin wakes to the sound of rain pattering against the windows and the low rumbling of thunder off in the distance. Despite the weather, he feels warm, comfortable. . . Protected, honestly.

He sighs, snuffling into the warm body sharing his bed, not wanting to wake just yet, wanting to cuddle with his mate. . .

. . . But then it hits him; this wasn't Douglas' scent, is what his mind screams at him, jumping back, finding Arthur sitting peacefully there, reading a book, now in a grey t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms.

“Oh! You're awake,” He smiles, putting his book down, the captain spotting it to be one of the Harry Potter ones, “Feeling alright?”

He can only stare for a moment at what's before him. How was Arthur just sitting there, acting all . . . _Arthur_ like?! When, when, Martin had come in front of him-, no, no! _**On**_ him?! How was this alpha acting like nothing happened?! How had he not tried to, to _fuck_ Martin?! To claim him, to _lay_ _ **claim**_ over him with his alpha not around to protect him??!

These thoughts, these questions floating around in Martin's thoughts; he's only able to nod at Arthur's question, not exactly knowing what else to do.

“Are you sure?” Arthur asks gently, placing a hand on Martin's forehead with care.

Martin lightly gasps at the contact, closing his eyes, nodding minutely with Arthur's hand still in place.

“. . . If you're sure,” Arthur replies softly, Martin opening his eyes to find Arthur watching him closely for a few long moments, small, reassuring smile on his face,

“Hungry?” He asks as he finally takes his hand away, Martin having to stop himself in following, hating how needy and how much of wanting touch and comfort he craved during his heats.

He shakes his head no, Arthur nodding,

“Thirsty?” He shakes his head no again, Arthur falling silent for a moment, looking to take a moment and think,

“. . . Need a cuddle?” he finally murmurs, Martin not expecting the question, stopping mid shake in an answer of 'no'.

After a short battle within his mind, flushing deeply; he cautiously lays his head on Arthur's shoulder, sighing out at the contact of leaning against the alpha, closing his eyes at the simple gesture feeling incredible.

Arthur hums happily, going back to his book, the silence only being broken by the pattering of rain against the windows and Arthur's pages ruffling as he read on.

Even with the odd scenario Martin and Arthur had ended up in; it was sort of comfortable. The rhythmic rain on the window, feeling warm in the cozy room, it all making Martin doze just a little bit.

But then the thought of Douglas and contacting him popped the quiet bubble, startling Martin from his dozing.

“Can, can you hand me my phone, Arthur?” He breaks the silence so quietly, Arthur nodding more than happily (seeming so at being actually asked to help), reaching over to the nightstand, handing it over straight away.

But when Martin pushes the power button; nothing happens.

“It's dead.” He groans, tossing it on the side table closest to him, berating himself in his mind at not thinking of plugging it in before Arthur left and he dozed off!

Just as he's about to ask if he could use Arthur's phone, the steward interrupts with,

“Mine's dead as well. Mum called when I was out.” Martin nods at Arthur's answer, biting his lip as they both go silent for a few long moments.

It wasn't until this point in their silence that Martin realizes he was _very_ **nude** under the duvet, making him blush furiously, pulling the blanket up to his chin as best as he could, what with Arthur sitting on half of it.

“I'm sorry.” He murmurs to Arthur, being so soft, he wasn't sure if Arthur had heard him.

“For what?” The steward asks gently, Martin finding Arthur's usual smile lighting his face.

“I. . . I. . .” Martin, tongue tied, not sure how to apologize for going into an unexpected heat. God, how was he going to survive the rest of it?! He couldn't very well go out on his own, looking for a toy shop in his condition! Arthur couldn't very well, either, with the storm still raging outside.

And Arthur. . . Surely, the alpha only wanted to help just the first go around? In Martin's need? Martin's scent just throwing him into protective mode?! He couldn't possibly want to just watch Martin... _Pleasure_ himself the whole few days, being, being _hard_ throughout?!

“Skipper?” He's thrown from his thoughts at Arthur's gentle call, looking over to find the steward smiling, understanding shining bright within his eyes,

“Is this about. . . You going into heat early?”

Martin's cheeks feel as if they were on fire with the out right question of his heat.

He simply nods, looking away from his friend.

“No need to apologize, Skip. It's fine-”

“But it's not!” He interrupts with a squeak, almost frustrated with Arthur's calmness, his understanding! How could an alpha, even if that alpha's _Arthur_ , not be angry about not mating an omega in heat, that was, that was right under his thumb?!

“But it is!” Arthur insists, Martin feeling Arthur's hand on his cheek, guiding the captain to look at him. Martin flushes further at the gesture, yet, sorta. . . _Nuzzles_ into Arthur's palm, biting his lip in shame at doing so, just wanting that touch, wanting that comfort that he would be getting from his alpha at that moment,

“Skipper, I can't lie. You know that. You can't help what your body does! Even I know that,” He answers gently, hand moving from the captain's cheek to his thigh in seeming comfort, “It's all fine. And like I said, I want to help as much as I can if you would like me to, if you let me,” he's so gentle in his words, in his comforting. Martin can't help but nod in understanding, placing his head softly back on Arthur's shoulder, feeling the steward sigh deeply, “And I know, Skip. I know this isn't the most ideal situation, not having your mate. If I could, I'd run to a toy store and get you any toy you'd like,” Martin blushes at Arthur's words, knowing the alpha would probably fly through a tornado to help, “But since that's just not possible,” He gestures toward the window, the rain coming down in torrents, the sky so dark, “Then I'll do whatever I possibly can to make you feel comfortable, and safe, and protected, and, and cared for.”

Martin nods, knowing Arthur's words to be more than true, knowing Arthur would never hurt him. . . Even if the thought of Arthur losing control was still at the edge of his mind. He just couldn't help it.

“Can I ask you a few things?” Martin murmurs, breaking the silence that had fallen for the last few moments.

“Of course, Skipper!” He answers, Martin hearing the smile in his voice.

“You. . . You said you've helped omegas before. . . How, how many omegas?”

“Four.” Arthur immediately answers, thumb caressing Martin's thigh through the duvet.

“H-How many times?” Martin adds in a murmur.

“Let me think. . . Once, three, four. . . And, more than several.” Martin's surprised by that last one.

“' _More than several_ '? Were you dating?” He sorta blurts out, thinking that more than several; they had to be seeing one another, surely?

“No,” he smiles, “They didn't really want that, and really. . . Neither did I. They liked being single and I just didn't see them that way.”

“I'm sorry.” Martin apologizes, thinking it the right thing to say.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Skip. They did eventually find an alpha, if you want to know. She really swept my friend off their feet. They have their own pups and are happy as can be,” He smiles at the thought and excitedly adds, “I've even babysat for them a few times!” Of course Arthur, an _alpha_ , babysat for a former sort of partner!

Martin's silent once more, thoughts wandering all through his head at learning so much about Arthur,

“Did it. . . Did it go beyond toys and, and caring for them and such?” Martin can't help but ask, wondering why he was still questioning his friend.

“. . . A few times,” Arthur murmurs nicely in response, making Martin shiver the lightest bit at this new knowledge, “Protection was used, though, and I never moved forward without asking at least a couple times.”

“And you . . . You didn't try to bond with anyone?”

“I did have a mouth guard just in case, but didn't use it. Bonding didn't feel right with any of my pony club friends.”

“But you're an alpha! You're, you're supposed to find a mate and, a-and bond and dominate!”

“Not all alphas work that way, Skipper,” He simply answers, smile still present, not sounding at all offended at Martin's words. Indeed, Arthur didn't seem like a normal alpha, that was for sure,

“Did Douglas just take you without thought?” Arthur adds, not sounding upset or anything, just genuinely curious.

“Well. . . Well no.” He flushes deeply, biting his lip, his and Douglas' bonding being a bit different, being fairly well planned, really.

“Well then, there you go!” He happily declares, Martin not helping but snorting the smallest snort at Arthur's reaction, though still blushing hotly.

“It's just; helping so many omegas and you weren't attracted to any of them? You didn't try and, and 'woo' them? Have you ever dated an omega?”

Arthur's silent for a moment, Martin wondering if he crossed a line until Arthur answers quietly with a smile, “I just like helping, really, even if there isn't a spark. . . Though. . . There is one omega I like. A friend of mine. But they're already with an alpha, another friend, and they're bonded. I took far too long to say anything. Though I think they liked this alpha for a long while before they got together, so I don't think me asking them out or anything would have done much,” Martin murmurs a surprised ' _oh_ ', feeling a little bit bad he brought it up, Arthur soon continuing after a long, deep breath, “I would never try and ruin that,” He adds softly, his thumb seeming to caress just a titch more on Martin's thigh, “I just want them to be happy. And them being happy makes me happy.” Martin nods once more, nuzzling his curls into Arthur's shoulder, hoping it conveyed some comfort in Arthur not being with the omega he liked.

“Thank you for being so open with me, Arthur.” Martin murmurs, Arthur humming happily in response.

They stay in comfortable silence for a short while, Martin soon thinking of earlier, thinking of how Arthur was dressed,

“Earlier. . . Why. . . Why were you in just your pants?” Martin carefully questions, this whole ordeal feeling rather surreal.

“Oh! I thought skin on skin would feel nice for you. Not to mention my scent would be more potent, you know. Helping a bit more.”

“And, um. . . You were pretty... Pretty. . . ?” Martin doesn't want to say Arthur was hard, this was difficult enough as it was, only gesturing toward the front of Arthur's bottoms.

Arthur surprisingly knows what Martin wants to ask, answering him right away with the slightest of blushes,

“Well, I, I may have had a quick trip to the toilet after you fell asleep,” He answers sheepishly, “Though, it was. . . Was a bit hard to leave your side. Your scent is brilliant.” He compliments, now making Martin blush even more.

“Oh. Well, thank you.” He feels warm after such a compliment, it feeling somewhat intimate that Arthur was complimenting him on his scent.

Actually, he felt like he was heating up, Arthur's scent smelling nicer now that Martin wasn't in complete terror that Arthur was going to, well, he didn't even want to think about it, really.

Then suddenly, Martin is moaning as slickness begins to flow from his arse, nails gripping into Arthur's arm as he becomes painfully hard, he nuzzling his head against the steward's shoulder for some form of comfort.

“Skipper,” He murmurs, gently moving his arm from Martin's grip, wrapping himself around the captain, “Do you want my help?” Martin nods quickly, biting his lip, “Come on, then. Go and touch yourself. I'm right here,” He burrows into Martin's curls, breathing in so deeply as Martin listens and starts to stroke himself under the blanket, moaning at the first touch, “Should I take my shirt off? Did you like the skin on skin?”

Martin nods vigorously, wanting more alpha scent, wanting to feel good, not wanting to be in so much pain this time around.

Arthur sits up, Martin whining at the loss, reaching out with his non-stroking hand, the small sliver of mind that wasn't fogged absolutely berating himself for doing so to someone that wasn't his alpha.

“It's okay, Skip. Let me get this off. Start fingering yourself, yeah? Come on, it'll be brilliant.”

“Oh!” Martin gasps at the request, very much thinking that fingering was a good idea, yes.

He bends his knees up and reaching between his legs, past his leaking cock; he begins circling two fingers around his wet hole in a light tease to himself, something Douglas would like to do to him, soon sliding those fingers in his already loose hole, groaning long and low at the sensation.

“Oh, brilliant,” Arthur breaths out, his shirtless self laying back down, removing the remainder of duvet covering the captain. Soon, bringing Martin close, raising one of Martin's legs up onto his own, opening him wider, more slick gushing out as he thrusts in time with his strokes.

“Oh!” Martin moans in surprise, having found his prostate, continuing light little strokes against the bundle of nerves.

“Just look at you,” Arthur says so softly with such care, hand going to once again caress his chest, thumb soon playing lightly with an erect nipple, making Martin gasp, thrusting up into his hand,

“You're already so close, aren't you?” Martin nods quickly, panting hard, sweaty forehead rubbing against Arthur's chest, “Come on then. Such a good omega, I know you'll come so well.”

It takes a few more strokes and a few more soft murmurs of encouragement and praise before Martin is strongly arching against Arthur, head thrown back as he cries out, ejaculate spilling onto his freckled stomach, hole desperately clenching around his slim fingers for something bigger.

“Oh, Skipper. That was _brilliant_ ,” Arthur breathes in awe, Martin noting the steward adjusting his whole self, the bottom half of his body especially wriggling about. Martin sees why fairly quickly as his friend's pj bottoms are rather tented,

“That's not going to satisfy you, just coming once, though,” Martin nods, whimpering in response, somewhere in his mind knowing Arthur was only stating the obvious, “Keep touching, Skip. Keep stroking that lovely cock, keep using those nimble fingers in your plump arse. Just keep going. . .” Arthur murmurs, the softest groan coming forth after, bottom half moving in adjustment again, Martin swearing Arthur looked even larger.

Martin really never stopped stroking, now just stroking slightly quicker at Arthur's words, fingers in his arse trying to go deeper, just wanting more and more. He presses his face firmly against Arthur's chest, breathing deeply in, shuddering out a soft moan at Arthur's strong alpha scent.

“Skipper,” Arthur murmurs, his hand that was around Martin running along to his hip, giving it a little squeeze, his other still playing with Martin's chest gently, “Add another finger? Please, I really think you can.” Martin only moans at the request, nodding yes, yes, a third finger would be wonderful.

So he adds a third finger, it slipping in easily with his flowing slick, pads of his fingertips on his prostate once more, beginning to groan, crescendoing to the point Martin was sure the hotel staff would be knocking on their door very soon with noise complaints.

“There we go, doing so well in adding that third finger,” Arthur groans softly with Martin, fingers digging into the pilot's hip, making Martin gasp. The steward soon takes his hand that was on Martin's chest, placing it on his leg that lay across Arthur's. The alpha raises Martin's leg further up his own, spreading Martin more, more wetness spilling out at the action.

That hand soon sidle's up to Martin's thigh, it staying put, kneading Martin's soft speckled skin a bit roughly,

“Add a fourth finger,” Arthur says gently, fingernails faintly scratching both places Arthur's hands lay, Martin panting hard, moaning loudly at Arthur's words, “You're such a brilliant omega, using your fingers so well, I know you can. Come on, Skipper. Please add that finger, just want you to feel _brilliant_.” His 'brilliant' is emphasized by his nails digging in fiercely, Martin arching aggressively, yelping out a moan at Arthur's action.

“Y-Yes. Oh. . .” Is all he answers, breathing Arthur's scent in deeply; he slides in that fourth finger, biting his lip at the feeling, thoughts of his mate having done this to him not too long ago flitting through his mind, moaning a bit louder at the memory, of thinking of Douglas, of his scent, of how this would be even that much more wonderful if his mate was spurring him on.

He thrusts as best as he can with his four fingers in his arse, panting, groaning, feeling so, so close.

“That's it, Skipper. That's it. You've touched yourself so well, so nicely,” Martin moans at the niceties Arthur just keeps bestowing on him, stroking a little faster, trying to go deeper,

“Come on, come on. You're such a brilliant omega, such a wonderful omega, the _best_ omega, oh Skipper, _come for_ _ **me**_.” His command was emphasized by his fingers scratching downward on Martin, the captain crying out. Arthur's lovely words and hands were far too much, making Martin come so very hard, spunk spurting out onto his chest, his stomach, on Arthur's hand that lay on his thigh. Martin could only think of one word for that climax: _Brilliant_.

Martin goes limp in Arthur's arms, second orgasm being enough for the moment as his alpha friend gathers him gently against him, not minding the mess as that hand that was on his hip moves to his curly locks, fingers running through carefully as his other hand hugs him closer, Arthur murmuring words of praise, of kindness, making Martin smile the smallest smile in his tiredness of being a good omega.

Martin gasps soon though at Arthur adjusting his body again, the captain feeling Arthur's very hard clothed cock against his hip.

“Oh! Sorry, Skip,” He immediately apologizes, adjusting again before outright sitting up, face lightly flushed as he carefully takes his arms from around Martin, the omega in Martin wanting to whine at the loss of contact in his state.

“It's okay, Skipper. It's fine,” God, did he end up whining without realizing?!, “I'll, I'll be right back.” He stutters slightly, soon hopping off the bed and heading into the en suite, returning a few moments later with a flannel in hand, making his way back on the bed with a small smile. Martin noting, however, Arthur was still very aroused by the state his pj bottoms were in.

“I thought since you didn't get to clean up before...” Arthur points out the flannel, Martin flushing at the gesture, “... Can I help you wash a little? Or would you like to do so?”

Martin flushes even hotter, sorta. . . Wanting Arthur to help, always liking when Douglas would do so, liking that part of care.

“Well. . . Douglas did so during o-our _time_ , and, and. . . I _liked_ when he did so, so. . .” Martin can feel his face just absolutely boil with how hot he felt, watching Arthur's reaction, the steward only smiling a little wider.

“No need to be embarrassed, Skip. You know I like to help.”

So, that's what he does.

He gently runs the warm flannel along Martin's belly, up to his very lightly fuzzed chest, taking special care around Martin's nipples, seeming to take into thought of how sensitive they are.

They became even more sensitive during heats, Douglas having taken notice for their only shared one, lavishing such attention to the perked, rosy nubs. Fingers dancing along them, tongue laving them with such care, such attention, such love; Martin shudders lightly at the thought, sighing with fondness.

“Did that hurt, Skipper? Is this too much?” Arthur, bless him, looks so distraught, most likely taking Martin's shuddering as something else.

Martin flushes hotly once again, shaking his head no,

“N-No, Arthur. I'm fine. Thank you for, for this.” He manages, the alpha smiling so nicely at the captain again, soon taking the flannel back to the en suite.

Martin stays put for the moment, mind wandering here and there, thinking of Douglas, thinking of Arthur watching him be so intimate with himself, thinking that he should put on at least a pair of briefs for now.

Martin loses track of time, the thought of Arthur still being in the en suite popping up in his mind, wondering about the wait.

Before he makes the decision to go and check on the alpha; Arthur reappears from the toilet, cheeks rather pink, a sheepish smile lining his face, pj bottoms looking to be not so . . . _uncomfortable_ anymore.

Martin flushes hotly, his mind quickly reminding himself that he was still rather nude, hand going to cover himself.

“. . . Can I get you a pair of pants?” Arthur offers, Martin nodding 'yes' immediately, quietly pointing out the drawer the omega had unpacked said undergarments.

Arthur quickly retrieves a blue pair, carefully handing them over, soon facing away, giving Martin a titch of privacy.

Quickly standing, legs so wobbly he nearly tips over; Martin pulls his pants on, sitting heavily back down on the edge of the bed, placing his elbows on his knees, holding his heavy head in his hands.

“All done?” He hears Arthur call out, nodding, not thinking that this couldn't work.

“Skip? Alright?. . . Need help?” He adds quietly, Martin biting his lip as he feels a sting in his eye, feeling a tear run down his cheek.

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? What for?” He hears Arthur twirl around, shuffling forward, hitting the bed. The alpha muttering a small 'Ow!' along the way.

Martin shakes his head, feeling Arthur sit down beside him, feeling the steward's hand being placed gently on his back. Soft, gentle rubs running up and down,

“Come on, Skipper. You can tell me.”

Arthur continues with his comforting, not pushing Martin to talk, just lazily running his hand up and down gently with care, Martin eventually leaning over, Arthur putting his arm around the captain in a gentle hug.

“I'm sorry for my _stupid_ heat!” He blurts out, wiping at his eye roughly.

“But I said it's fine, Skip. You don't have to be sorry.”

“I know, I know! But, but. . . You're being so **nice** , Arthur. And, and, gentle while I. . . While I . . . _Touch_ myself, and, and thinking about my mate while doing so, and, and then you, you have to run off to the toilet to, to - . . . I'm just sorry.” His face feels so hot by the end of it, biting his lip hard, feeling another sting in the corner of his eye.

“Skipper,” Arthur pauses, fingers drumming on Martin's arm where he held him, “You want to be a good omega, yes?”

He sniffs a little sniff, furrowing his eyebrows at the question.

“Well, well yes. Of course I do.”

“I want to be a very good alpha. I want to protect you, I want to make you feel safe with me and really cared for. Not threatened, or feeling like I'm going to pounce. So yes, I'll run to the toilet in my state to. . . _Relieve_ myself here and there. I'm more than happy to. I just don't want you hurting and want you to feel as brilliant as you can without your mate here.”

Martin wipes another tear away, smiling this time, turning slightly in order to give Arthur a hug,

“You're a good friend and are a _brilliant_ alpha, Arthur. Thank you for helping me.”

“D'aww, thanks, Skip!” He can hear the glee in the steward's voice with his reply of thanks, Arthur hugging him back tight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, Arthur just wants to be a good Alpha. ;__; . . . Or does he?! Dun, dun, dun! No, but. . . Yeah. :) 
> 
> We'll finish their little tryst in the next chapter, and then the chapter after that, goodness. :O
> 
> Again, I don't believe I've ever written so much smut for one story. I hope it's okay and it doesn't seem repetitive or anything as such.  
> I do so hope you enjoy! If you wanna see some fanart and stuffs, come and say hullo on my tumblr, a-drab-lunacy. :) 
> 
> ❤❤❤


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